


A Ghost from the Past

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 15:26:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8758417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: When Y/N's parents are taken into protective custody after a threat against their lives, they are livid, finding it to be an inconvenience that's not necessary. Was the threat credible? Will they be able to return home, or be stuck in protective custody for the foreseeable future?Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	

A ghost from your past will come back to destroy all that you love.

The note had been left inside a bouquet of flowers that had been sent to you at the BAU. “There’s no sender?” Spencer asked.

“No,” you replied, staring in fear at the note. People had threatened you before, but it had been face-to-face, or you knew nothing would actually happen. This time though - a random note had been sent anonymously to the BAU, specifically to your desk, and it specified a ‘ghost from your past.’ You had never consciously hurt anyone, but maybe someone had a vendetta out for you.

“So you have no idea who the note could be from or what it’s referencing?” he questioned.

You shook your head. “I don’t know who it’s from, but if it says a ‘ghost from my past,’ the ‘destroy all that I love’ is probably a reference to my family. All that I love is you guys and my family. And you guys didn’t come into my life until recently.”

“You know that means we’re going to have to bring your parents into protective custody then, right?” Spencer said, placing is hand on your shoulder.

You brought your hands to you face, desperate for it not to be necessary, but you knew that it was. “Yea,” you sighed. “I need to go to tell Hotch.”

“Hotch,” he called, walking into his office without even knocking, “I got this in a bouquet this morning,” you said, handing him the note. “I think it’s in reference to my parents.”

He looked down at the note and immediately back up at you. “We need to bring your parents into protective custody, Y/N,” he said, caution lacing his voice. The previous year, an unsub had him in his grasp. You were a wonder with a gun and had managed to make an almost impossible shot, saving his life. Plus, over the course of the past year, you had became part of the BAU family, so anyone that came after you was coming after the rest of team as well. “You can go get them now. Bring Spencer and Emily with you.”

“Thanks, Hotch,” you said, thankful he’d taken the note seriously immediately, rather than needing to investigate it further.

\----------------------

“Hey, mom. Hey, dad,” you said, walking into your parent’s house with Spencer and Emily. “We need to take you guys and Sam into protective custody.”

“What do you mean? Why?” your father asked confused.

You knew this wasn’t going to go over well with your family. “When I went into work this morning there was a bouquet of flowers on my desk and inside was a note. The note said ‘a ghost from your past will come back to destroy all that you love.’ We have reason to believe that was a threat against you guys, so until we find this guy, we need to take you into protective custody so you’ll be safe.”

“Sam has school,” your mother started, “Your father and I have work. What are we supposed to do, put our lives of hold because there might be a threat against us?”

"I’m sorry,” Emily started, noticing the anger in your mother’s voice, “But in order to keep you safe, this is what has to be done.”

Your father started huffing and puffing, seemingly worried more about his job than about his life. Or they weren’t taking this note seriously. “So what are we supposed to do now?”

“You have to pack up whatever you can, maybe two weeks worth of clothes and things and come back with us,” you said. You knew this was a major inconvenience for them, but you’d rather inconvenience them then have them turn up dead.

“This is bullshit,” your dad said, texting Sam to come out of his room. 

“We are truly sorry,” Spencer said, using ‘we’ to take some of the ‘blame’ onto himself and the rest of the team, rather than having it rest solely on you. “But we are taking this note as a threat and we are taking it seriously. Your lives are in danger.”

\----------------------

The ride back to the station was hell. The entire time, they’d bitched and moaned about having to have their lives inconvenienced, saying that if you’d chosen a different job, they wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

After the long car ride, you ushered your family inside, Spencer and Emily at their backs doing their best to calm them down.

“Mom, Dad, Sam, this is the rest of my team, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi and Jennifer Jareau.” You pointed to each of them, hoping they’d have calmed down by this point, but to no avail.

“Honestly, we better have someone coming after us for all this inconvenience. If this turns out to be nothing...” your father started, before Hotch cut him off.

“If it turns out to be nothing, you’ll be grateful,” he said forcefully, not liking the tone your parents were taking with you. “You should be thankful you have a daughter and sister that cares so much about your wellbeing that she is determined to take every threat against your life seriously. We’ll have another agent escort you to safety now.”

Both of your parents looked ashamed at Hotch’s lashing. Sam didn’t really seem to care to begin with. He was a teenager, so he thought getting off from school was cool.

“Now, as for you,” Hotch said, after staring down your parents on their way out, “if whoever this is can’t get to your parents, there is a distinct possibility they will come after you instead.”

“I can take care of myself, Hotch,” you replied, patting the very gun at your side that had saved his life nearly a year ago. “If you remember correctly, I’ve saved quite a few of your lives with this baby.”

“Be careful, Y/N,” he sighed. He wanted to give you a protective detail too, but he knew you wouldn’t have it.

“I will, Hotch.”

\----------------------

Nearly a week and a half had gone by and the unsub had left you numerous other notes - ones that indicated their displeasure with the fact they couldn’t get to your family. You almost hoped for them to come for you - to come out of the shadows - that way if an immediate threat was made, you could shoot them and be done with it. 

As you walked into your apartment that night, you double and triple-checked the locks, ensuring you hadn’t left them unlocked in your paperwork-induced sleep. You hadn’t so you decided to go to bed early - the last ten days had been especially exhausting. It was seconds after your head hit the pillow that you fell asleep, only to be woken up in the middle of the night by a heavy breathing sound near the foot of your bed...

You made sure not to move. Whoever it was wanted your reaction, otherwise they wouldn’t be standing there doing nothing. Thankfully, as a precaution, you had been sleeping with your cellphone under your pillow, so you texted Emily the word help, ensuring there was no perceptible movement in your fingers. Emily was the one that lived closest to you, so she would be the one to get there quickest. After you felt a buzz in your hands, you hit her speed dial number, leaving the phone underneath the pillow as you reached your hand out to turn on the lamp.

Once you turned over, you remembered his face. It was a man named Dennis you had class with in college. He had asked you out, but you had been dating someone else at the time, so you’d turned him down. Apparently, that didn’t sit well with him.

“You remember me, don’t you?” he said, brandishing a sharp knife in his hands, tracing his finger over the keen edge of the blade.

“Yes,” you replied, steadying your voice to show no fear. He wanted you to be afraid, but you wouldn’t give him that. “You’re Dennis - from my biology class. What are you doing here? Why are you in my home?”

“At first I though you turned me down because you were with someone else,” he started, “but then I realized why you really did. It was because of the way I look,” he said, pointing to his face, which had suffered a scar from an accident when he was a child.

“No, Dennis. I didn’t. I was seeing someone and at the time, we were happy. That’s why I turned you down.”

“You don’t have to admit it,” he responded. “I know the truth now, and I decided that I wanted to make you pay. I wanted to make all of the people that had ever passed judgement on me suffer, so I figured I’d start with you.” He pointed the knife towards you, but stayed still.

You just had to keep talking for a few more minutes. Emily had surely heard this conversation, considering you’d left the phone on under the pillow - and she lived less than five minutes away.

“So should I bother reaching into my nightstand for my gun? Or have you already taken the bullets out of it?” you asked. He shook his head; he’d already taken care of it.

“Will you make it quick?” you asked, referring to your death. You wouldn’t be going down without a fight, but you wanted him to think otherwise. The attention needed to be on you, so Emily could make her way into the apartment without being heard. “Or do you have something else planned?”

“You don’t deserve a quick death, you judgmental bitch,” he seethed. The mind really did think what it wanted to sometimes, no matter the evidence to the contrary. “I plan on making your death slow, painful and graphic for the ones that find your body. It could have been your family, but you took them away from me. I figured hurting your family would hurt you more than anything else I could do.”

“Drop the knife,” Emily said, having used the key you’d given her months ago to get in. You and Emily had gotten close over the past year, so you told her if she ever needed you to just let herself into your apartment - an offer she’d taken you up on more than once. “You’re done.”

As he turned his back to you and towards Emily, you closed your eyes in relief. But you weren’t home free yet. Apparently, he didn’t want to go down without a fight either. In one swift movement, he pulled the knife into the air and lunged toward Emily, at which point, the loud shriek of gunfire resounded throughout the apartment.

That had definitely woken up your neighbors.

But at least it was over. And your parents could come out of protective custody.

\----------------------

After the rest of the team had helped clear out your apartment and paperwork had been put together, Hotch officially pulled the protective custody on your parents. “We can go get them out of custody now,” he said cautiously. Considering how they went in, he wasn’t sure you wanted to take them out again. Your family could be a pain in the ass sometimes, but you loved them and they’d undoubtedly see the error of their ways.

Hotch, Spencer and Emily accompanied you to release your family from custody. “Hey guys,” you said, the relief apparent. “You can go home now.”

“Can we?” your father asked sarcastically.

You rolled your eyes. God, they really could be infuriating. “Yes. The person that was after you snuck into my apartment instead, but he’s dead because I called Emily to save my life and she did.”

Your mother’s, your father’s and Sam’s mouths dropped open in shock, looking between you and Emily numerous times. “He was in your apartment?” your mother asked, the stance in her body changing when she realized you had been in imminent danger. “Who was he?”

“Yes, he was in my apartment,” you replied. “And it was a man named Dennis I turned down in college, when I was dating Brad. Over the years, he put it in his own mind that I turned him down for his looks and that idea didn’t sit well with him, so he tried to find a way to hurt me. For some reason, what would’ve hurt me the most was losing you assholes.” You laughed - this was how you always talked to your family.

Everyone’s demeanor changed. All three of them walked over to you, enveloping you in a family hug. “I’m sorry we were such assholes, honey,” your father said, kissing you on the forehead. “And Emily,” he said, extending his hand, “Thank you for being there for her.”

“You should be,” you laughed, “but I forgive you. And it’s over.”


End file.
